


in every life (i love you)

by aos_skimmons



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:46:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6320980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aos_skimmons/pseuds/aos_skimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you even though you don’t remember me. And in every life cycle I hope that if we are lucky enough for our paths to cross, that you will come to love me too.”</p><p>Clarke is only sure of one thing; their names stay the same.</p><p>Reincarnation AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	in every life (i love you)

Clarke is only sure of one thing; their names stay the same (or similar at least).

The first time Clarke lays eyes on her soulmate, Lady Woodson is sat at her vanity, her hair already brushed, sitting in her long nightgown.

Clarke’s breath catches when she spots the woman’s reflection in the mirror. She has never seen someone so captivating. Her soft brunette hair cascading over one shoulder, features soft, eyes wise.

And Clarke, Clarke is her new maid, stood just inside her bedroom door having knocked a few moments before.

The first thing the Lady says to her is, “You are new,” and her voice softer than Clarke expects.

“I am, Madam.” Clarke replies, curtsying like she was told to do. “Your previous maid has left to care for her child,” she explains nervously.

The Lady purses her lips and Clarke swallows thickly, feeling as if she has already said the wrong thing.

But in the end she just asks, “And your name?”

The Lady raises an eyebrow, waiting, and the action is so alluring it takes Clarke a moment to respond.

“Clarke, Madam.”

“Well Clarke,” she says, and the blonde shivers at how her name sounds coming from her lips, “It is a pleasure.”

Clarke swallows. “The pleasure is all mine, Madam. Would you like me to call for a bath or would you like me to retrieve your dress for the morning?”

“My dress please. I bathed late last night,” she says with a delicate wave of her hand.

After that day they fall into routine.

Every morning Clarke would come to her room and help her prepare for her day, then escort her to the dining room before fetching her breakfast, or bringing it outside if the Lady cared for it. She would then shadow the woman, always in the background in case she was needed, unless told otherwise.

This goes on for months, and during that time they become comfortable in each other’s presence.

Clarke is always on the side-lines, as the Lady goes about her day, either with her husband or with her friends. The blonde tries not to think about how she wishes she could converse with the Lady so publically like her friends do, or how she herself turns her head ever so slightly when the Lady presses her lips chastely to her husbands.

And then one morning after Clarke asked if she liked her outfit for the day Lexa replies with, “Lexa.”

“Pardon, Madam?”

“You may call me Lexa.” Clarke can only gape. “My name is Alexandria, however Lexa… I prefer it.” And then Lexa is quick to add, “But only in private.”

“Are you sure Madam?”

“Yes, if you wish.” She says, with a slight nod.

“Lexa,” Clarke repeats, and she likes the way the name rolls off her tongue. By the smile on Lexa’s face, Clarke is sure Lexa thinks the same thing.

As time went on, Clarke’s touches began to linger for a second more, their eyes would often meet during meal times when Clarke serves the food, and she even began knocking on Lexa’s door a few minutes earlier, just to spend more time with the woman.

Lexa on the other hand, would often let her try her various perfumes, sometimes brush her hair in the morning or even buy her a book when she visits the markets that Clarke spends reading way into the night.

Clarke knows it is wrong, but she came to anticipate the days that Lexa would ask for a bath in the morning. She will never get tired of gazing at the soft expanse of Lexa’s skin as she helps her slip off her nightgown.

 

Then one morning as Clarke stands outside Lexa’s bedroom waiting for her to finish bathing, she hears Lexa call her from inside.

“Clarke, please come in.”

The maid does so immediately, pushing the door open and stepping inside the room. What she doesn’t anticipate is Lexa still sitting in the tub, the water barely skimming the top of her breasts. It is slightly murky from the scents poured into it, but other than that Lexa is barely covered, at it takes Clarke a moment to remember she shouldn’t look.

“Madam,” Clarke gasps, shocked.

And Lexa chuckles, “You haven’t called me that in months.”

“I apologise, I thought you were finished.”

“It’s quite alright. I called you in here, remember?”

Clarke still can’t look at Lexa, her cheeks are flushed and her hands fidget nervously.

“Oh yes. Is there anything wrong, Ma- Lexa?”

“Not quite,” she replies. “I need your assistance washing my back,” she holds up a sponge, the water from it drips into the bath below, and for a moment it is the only sound in the room as Clarke processes what has just been asked of her.

She moves robotically towards the Lady, doing as she asks without even realising what she is about to do. She crouches behind her as Lexa shifts in the tub, leaning forwards.

Clarke takes the sponge from Lexa’s hand, their fingers brush and Clarke almost drops it, but she manages to keep a hold of it. She places the sponge gently against the Lady’s skin, her mind wandering briefly, wondering why this time specifically she needed help washing her back when she has managed all those other times on her own.

She gets lost in her actions, spending far too much time on such a quick job. It is when she moves the sponge higher, near the top of Lexa’s shoulder that the Lady moves again. This time her hand comes up to place on top of her own and for a moment Clarke thinks that she’s done something wrong.

But then Lexa is guiding her hand up further, and then down across her chest, a soft sigh leaving her lips. And Clarke, well Clarke doesn’t know what else to do other than let Lexa guide her.

Clarke swallows thickly, her heart jumping erratically in her chest. She feels like the room suddenly got ten degrees hotter, her breath becoming shallower.

And then Lexa turns her head to gaze at her, and there is a look in her eye that Clarke has never seen before.

“Clarke,” she says, her voice cuts through the air like a knife.

Their faces are close now, too close. Clarke can feel Lexa’s breath on her face, as she stares into Lexa’s eyes. She sees them glance towards her lips, and she wants to move those last few inches, but doesn’t.

In the end she doesn’t have to though, because Lexa is the one to close the gap. She surges forward pressing their lips together and Clarke gasps. But she doesn’t move away. If anything she does the opposite. She drops the sponge into the water, her damp hand coming up to cup the back of the Lady’s neck, pulling her closer, and kissing her furiously.

When they pull apart they are both out of breath. Clarke opens her eyes to find Lexa staring intently at her and suddenly hear heart seizes in her chest, because she just kissed the Lady of the House. The Lady, who has a husband. Who was a _woman_. But then…

“I have wanted to do that since I laid eyes on you,” Lexa breathes.

And everything else just seems to slip away.

Clarke replies by pressing their lips together again. This time it is softer though and Clarke can really appreciate how soft Lexa’s lips are, how they feel against her own.

They kiss until the water is cold and until their lips are sore, and by the end of it Clarke is sure that kissing Lexa is her favourite thing to do.

 

The first time they sleep together, it is late one night. Another one of the maids comes into Clarke’s room, telling her that the Lady is not feeling well and that she is refusing to be looked after anyone else but her.

Clarke rushes to Lexa’s bedroom, worried about her and wondering what could be wrong (she had seen the woman a few hours before after all, and she had seemed just fine then), only to find her sitting on the bottom of her bed waiting for her when she arrives. She closes the door quietly behind her with a click.

“Lexa?” Clarke asks.

A second later Lexa is striding towards her, then pulling her in for a passionate kiss that leaves Clarke feeling light headed.

“Where is Lord Woodson?” Clarke asks, worriedly.

“He is away for the weekend,” Lexa reminds, and then Clarke remembers seeing him leave earlier that day. “But I do not wish to talk about him. I needed to see you.”

“Lexa,” Clarke says nervously, glancing towards the door, “Are you sure?”

“No one will disturb us. Please.” She pleads quietly. “Stay with me tonight.”

Clarke debates for a second more, but really who is she kidding, she would do anything Lexa asks of her in a heartbeat. “Ok.”

Lexa pulls her towards the bed, tugging at her nightgown as she does so.

It is their first night together. And in all Clarke’s life cycles, she never forgets it.

Another routine falls into place after that night.

Shared kisses in dark corners of the house.

Quiet picnics in the park.

Reading together in the far corner of the library, protected from prying eyes by shelves of books.

Clarke would sneak into Lexa’s room every time her husband left for a few days.

But their happiness doesn’t last long.

One morning Lexa is getting dressed after just finishing her bath, Clarke is there too, helping her into her underclothes, but she can’t resist pulling Clarke in for a sweet good morning kiss.

Neither of them expected it to be their last.

Lexa’s husband to walk through the door then, having forgotten his vest that morning, but he does.

He shouts and screams and Clarke doesn’t remember what he says, not really. She is pulled back by her hair and Lexa is sobbing on the other side of the room. Clarke gasps when she is shoved to the floor, her head hitting the floorboards painfully. She is slightly aware of Lexa pulling her husband back but he simply pushes her away too.

Clarke is fired that day.

She doesn’t get to say goodbye to Lexa.

That is the last time she see’s her soulmate in their first life cycle.  
  
 

* * *

 

Clarke doesn’t see Lexa for many life cycles and Clarke begins to believe that maybe she dreamt it all. Maybe she was crazy. The lifes had passed slowly and painfully and even though she had found love, it was never quite the same.

Maybe it is a reward, for being without her soulmate for so long, but in this life she meets Lexa when they are children.

The classroom is big, especially to a small four year old and at first she doesn’t notice the beautiful girl in the corner of the room, with frizzy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. She is too focused on her finger painting of a dragon.

But then it is recess and there is only one sandbox. Clarke doesn’t realise it at first, when she steps onto the sand, accidentally crushing part of another girl’s castle, that she is meeting her soulmate for the first time in this life (that comes later, when she’s older and she remembers her past life more clearly).

Lexa cries because her hard work is ruined and Clarke quickly tries to comfort her, saying that she’ll help her build another castle, and they can even put her dragon on the edge of the sandbox to protect it.

The brunette rubs her eyes under her glasses with slightly dirty palms and sniffs.

“Really?” she asks, her lips pouting.

Clarke nods furiously. “I’m super sure. My daddy says that dragons are strong. And Mrs Scaley is the strongest,” she assures.

Lexa nods hesitantly, “…Ok.”

“I’m Clarke,” the blonde announces, holding her hand out.

“What are you doing?” Lexa asks.

“You have to shake it, that’s what grown ups do. Don’t you see your parents do it?”

Lexa thinks for a moment then nods, “My Uncle does it sometimes, yeah,” she says before taking hold of Clarke’s hand and shaking it.

“What about your parents?”

“I have a Uncle,” Lexa just states.

“Ok.”

The pair is inseparable after that.

Best friends.

They are there to bake their first cake together (Lexa is a terrible baker). They are there to help each other when they fall off their bikes. To build blanket forts with. To watch movies together.

And then in middle school Clarke is there for Lexa when she is first bullied for wearing glasses and for still retaining some of her baby weight. Lexa is there for Clarke when she learns she’s dyslexic, and when grandpa dies suddenly when she is only eight.

They are each other’s first kiss.

It happens at their first party towards the end of middle school. They are all sat around in a circle with their school friends and a bottle is in the middle of the circle. Clarke and Lexa sit next to each other, Lexa more nervous than she is letting on, but thankfully the bottle never seems to land on her.

But then a boy, Danny, spins the bottle and it points straight towards her.

“Eww,” another boy sneers, “You have to kiss _Lexa_ ,” he teases meanly.

And Lexa feels tears swell in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. She already knows that she’s only at the party because of Clarke, she doesn’t need to be reminded that she isn’t very well liked in her grade.

“Gross,” Danny responds.

Clarke glares at him, mostly because she thought he was a nice guy, but apparently not.

“Shut up Danny, and you too Markus,” Clarke shouts at the first boy to bully her best friend.

“I’m just going to go,” Lexa says, standing up. She leaves the room before Clarke can stop her.

Clarke follows her out almost straight away, but not before punching Markus in the nose (later Markus’s mother phone’s her parents and she is grounded for it, but she doesn’t regret it. Not one bit. Especially not when on the next Monday at school Lexa’s eyes light up at seeing the boy with a bandage across his nose).

Clarke manages to catch up to Lexa by the time she is halfway down the street.

“Lexa! Lexa, geez you’re fast.” Clarke huffs. That is when she notices Lexa’s puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Oh Lex. Those boys are idiots.”

“They hate me.”

“They’re stupid boys.” Clarke repeats. “It doesn’t matter what they think. I like you.”

Lexa sniffs and nods, “I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for being your friend.”

“I didn’t even want to kiss Danny, boys are gross.”

Clarke laughs then and nods her head in agreement, “They are, but you have me and I’m not gross, am I?”

She doesn’t expect it, but suddenly Lexa’s lips are on hers. It’s the kind of kiss where they’re not really kissing, just touching their lips together. But later they still count it as their first kiss.

Lexa pulls away first after a few seconds, looking embarrassed and flustered and looking anywhere but Clarke.

“I-I’m so sorry Clarke, I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m going to go home.”

“Lexa. Lex, stop,” she says gently. Clarke grabs her arm to stop her from running away. And she gazes at her best friend earnestly. “Don’t be sorry, ok? We’re best friends,” she says, like it’s the answer to the universe.

“I kissed you.”

“I know, I was there,” Clarke jokes.

“Oh my god, Clarke,” Lexa laughs.

And everything goes back to normal after that. Of course the kiss lingers in the back of both of their minds. Lexa, she doesn’t go a day without thinking about it. And Clarke, Clarke just tries to figure out a way to make it happen again.

It’s a year later Lexa comes out to Clarke as gay. And another two years before everyone else finds out.

In high school, everything changes for the pair. Clarke grows slightly taller; her body begins to fill out, her hips becoming curvier and over all she just matures.

Lexa on the other hand, goes through a complete metamorphosis over the summer before their junior year. She shoots up ending up a good few inches taller than Clarke, her body tones up from her mornings spent running, her cheekbones sharpen and she switches her glasses out for contacts (only wearing them in front of the blonde because Clarke insists that she loves them). Not to mention that with her sudden growth spurt her Uncle had to splurge on almost a whole new wardrobe.

Clarke doesn’t notice it much, not at first anyway, because she saw the girl every day over the summer holidays. But once they stepped through their schools doors on the first day of school she immediately picked up on everyone’s staring and whispering, most wondering who she was walking with, and if she was new.

Clarke always knew her best friend was beautifuL, inside and out.

But now she is beautiful to everyone else too.

Boys flock towards her, hitting on her left and right and Lexa, well Lexa didn’t know how to handle it all.

One drunken night in Clarke’s room, Lexa starts a rant about how unfair life was to women (swearing like a sailor because that happens when she’s drunk).

“They fucking hated me in middle school, those fucking boys,” Lexa hisses, “when I had frizzy hair and glasses and a little more fat on my body. They teased the shit out of me and bullied me and made me feel like complete and utter crap. But now that I’m fitter and thinner they can’t keep their eyes off me. It’s fucking _disgusting_.”

“Boys are idiots,” Clarke agrees. “Don’t worry Lex, you’ve always been beautiful to me.”

Lexa smiles softly at her, and Clarke’s heart flutters in her chest. It’s been doing that for a while now, any time Lexa glanced at her across a room or gave her a particular smile.

“I know.”

And maybe it was the alcohol, but then Clarke was leaning forwards and pressing her lips to her best friend’s. And it just feels right. Like it was something she was looking for her entire life.

It’s then that Clarke feels like she just had a freight train to the chest, and suddenly she remembers her their first meeting all those life cycles ago.

Alexandria Woodson.

Lexa Woods.

She jerks back and meets Lexa’s eyes, they look hurt, and Clarke knows that Lexa is probably thinking she regrets it.

So Clarke quickly grasps Lexa’s hand to keep her where she is (something she’s been doing since they were kids), because she just kissed her soulmate and she’s not going to let her go now.

“Clarke. I’m sorry.” Lexa says.

“Don’t be, I kissed you, remember?”

“I didn’t think that you…”

“I think I always have.” Clarke admits, her breath shaky.

They kiss again, and Clarke feels like she’s come home.

  
 

The next day they go into school holding hands.

That cycle they grow old together.

And it’s perfect.

   
 

* * *

 

In their next life cycle, they aren’t so lucky. Clarke is sixteen when new neighbours move into the house next door. A family, her mother told her.

“Clarke honey, come downstairs!” her mother calls from the kitchen.

Clarke grumbles at having to leave her room but does so anyway, trudging into the kitchen with a sour expression on her face.

Then is a plate of cookies is shoved into her hands. “The neighbours have just arrived, could you take these around to them as a welcome present please.”

“But mom, they literally just arrived,” Clarke groaned, having heard the truck pull up only an hour ago. “They’re probably busy and don’t want any disturbances.”

“Clarke,” her mother says pointedly.

“Alright, fine,” she huffs.

She storms out the house, and makes her way to the neighbours. She’s pretty sure that the truck isn’t empty yet but the front door is shut. She rings the bell.

It opens a moment later, and a young girl who couldn’t be more than five appears on the other side.

There is something oddly familiar about the child, but Clarke can’t quite place it yet.

“Uh, hey kid.” Clarke waves awkwardly.

“What do you want?”

Clarke furrows her eyebrows, “My mom sent-“

“Flora what did I tell you about answering the door.” A woman’s voice rings through the house and for some reason the sound of it makes Clarke’s heart jump in her chest.

“Not too,” the girl, Flora, shouts back.

And then the owner of the voice appears and Clarke freezes, because she would recognise those eyes anywhere.

“Come on sweetie, go help your brother unpack upstairs.”

“Ok mom.”

Flora runs up the wooden stairs just to the right of the door and disappears, but Clarke barely registered that, too focused on gazing at the woman in front of her.

“Sorry about Flora, I hope she wasn’t rude.”

“I-I-I uh, no she was fine,” Clarke stammered. If she think’s she’s acting strange, she doesn’t show it.

“I’m,” _Lexa_ , “Lexa,” the brunette says, but Clarke already knows that. “Looks like we’re your new neighbours.”

“Clarke,” she replies, and Clarke hopes for any sign of recognition, but all she is met with a smile, the kind that strangers give each other on the street and Clarke’s heart plummets. “Uh, my mom sent these over to welcome you into the neighbourhood.”

“That’s really nice of her, tell her that me and my wife would love to have you all over sometime.”

_My wife._

At those words Clarke almost physically recoils. It feels like someone has thrown a bucket of ice water over her head, and then hit her with a car. And she kind of wants to double over and throw up, but instead she holds her head high and gives a tense smile.

“I’ll tell her that.”

“Well I have to get back to unpacking, but it was nice to meet you Clarke.”

Clarke can’t speak, so instead she just nods and smiles and as soon as the door is shut she runs home and up to her room.

She cries into her pillow and she knows then and there that she will not be with her soulmate in this life.

Over the year Clarke can’t help but be drawn to her neighbour, offering to baby sit Lexa and her wife’s kids just so she could speak to the woman for a few minutes.

She mows her lawn in the summer so that she can gaze at Lexa while she sits on the patio, and more often than not suggests to her parents to invite the Woods family around for dinner.

It is the year after that that Clarke realises that she can’t go on like this. And for the next year she is forced to live next to Lexa and her family, as they are happy together. And all she can do is watch, because even if they were the same age, Clarke could see that Lexa was happy in this life, and who is she to deprive her love of that.

The day she goes off to college is a bittersweet one.

There she meets her future husband. She falls in love with him, but some part of her heart always stays with Lexa and so like in all her other lifes without her soulmate, it is just not the same.

And this time it hurts even more, knowing that they only _just_ missed each other.

  
 

* * *

 

   
In this life, something is different.

Clarke has a son. His name is Aden and he was gifted to her by accident after one night with a stranger.

She doesn’t remember his name but she doesn’t need to because she loves her boy the same amount that two parents would, and he is happy and healthy and beautiful.

And so it breaks her heart one day when she is in the kitchen making lunch when she hears the painful cry of her son from outside in the backyard.

When she races out to him he is clutching his arm to his chest and Clarke has to stop herself from crying, so that she doesn’t worry him and so she can rush him to the hospital.

She’s a mess by the time they finally get a doctor and it’s not until her son’s arm is securely in a pink cast that she really realises who she is speaking to.

Her eyes are different this time, a stormy grey that reminds Clarke of a past life when they were sat huddled under a blanket watching the sky thunder and lightning and rain pour from above.

“Thank you for doing this,” Clarke says gratefully, pulling Aden into her side. “What do you say Aden?”

“Thank you. And for the lollipop,” he adds, as she struggles with the wrapper.

The doctor takes it from him gently, unwraps it and hands back the candy a second later.

“I’m just doing my job,” she replies with a charming smile that leaves Clarke feeling she just ran a marathon and she wonders briefly how she can still feel this way after this many life cycles.

“Well I don’t know what I would do without you,” she says and the words sound heavier than she intends them to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name before, I was so flustered.”

The doctor smiles understandingly, “Dr Lexa Callaghan at your service.”

The name makes Clarke pause for a second, and she thinks that this may be another reason why she didn’t realise Lexa was in front of her at first (later she learns that Lexa’s birth parents died in a car crash and she was adopted as a young girl, taking on their last name but keeping Woods as a second middle name).

“Thank you again, Dr Callaghan.”

“Please, call me Lexa.”

“Thanks Dr Lexa,” Aden pipes up.

Clarke chuckles, “I think that might have just been me bud,” she says, not wanting to offend the doctor.

Lexa crouches down to Aden’s level, an easy smile on her face. “Don’t worry, I like the sound of Dr Lexa just as much.”

“Me and mama are gonna get ice cream, do you wanna come?”

“Oh I’m sorry Aden, I don’t know if I can right now, I’m pretty busy.” Lexa apologises sincerely.

“Really?” Aden pouts and Clarke is pretty close to doing the same, but she stops herself.

“Dr Lexa is pretty busy saving lives.”

“Another time then?” Aden asks expectantly.

“I don’t think-“

“Sure Aden,” Lexa cuts Clarke off, and the blonde looks at her surprised and excited.

“You don’t have to do that Lexa."

“I want to.”

“See mama, she wants to,” Aden said excitedly.

The two women exchange numbers after Aden insists that they do so, so that they can definitely meet up for ice cream some time.

(Later that day Clarke retells the story to her best friend in this life, Raven, a feisty Latina with a bad habit of making things explode, she bursts out laughing and tells her that her son has more game than she does.)

Clarke ends up texting Lexa the next day because she can’t stand the idea of not talking to her soulmate when she knows that she can.

It still makes her just as nervous as the other lifes did, but she swallows it because she knows exactly what she can get on the other side if she just mans up a little.

  
 

On their first date Clarke doesn’t realise it's a date.

Lexa takes her and Aden to an ice cream parlour near the hospital during her lunch break. She’s dressed in loose light blue scrubs; her hair is up in a messy bun and her face void of any make up.

Clarke still thinks she looks beautiful.

Aden runs into the doctors legs and wraps his arms around her, Lexa hugs him back with a wide smile on her lips and then when he finally let’s go Lexa pulls Clarke in for one too and Clarke knows in that instant that she’s already in love with Lexa in this life.

Watching Lexa with Aden quickly becomes one of Clarke’s favourite things. They act like they’ve known each other for their entire lives and Aden is usually nervous with strangers but he isn’t with Lexa and everything just seems like it’s meant to be. She can’t look away as Lexa wipes melting ice cream from around her son’s mouth and ruffles his hair affectionately.

“Mama, Dr Lexa said I could have another scoop because I’ve been really good at not scratching my arm,” Aden states with a wide smile.

Clarke briefly glances down at the cast on her son’s arm, which is now covered with his friends’ signatures and doodles. She glances to Lexa then who is looking at her bashfully, and Clarke almost swoons.

“Er…perhaps I should have asked first,” she chuckles nervously.

Clarke quirks an eyebrow and Lexa bites her lip and the blonde has to do everything in her power to not lean across the table and do the same.

“Please mama?” Aden asks politely but also pleading, and Clarke sighs dramatically.

“Well if it’s doctors orders, I guess we have to don’t we bud?”

Clarke went to reach for her purse but Lexa gets to it first, pulling out a five dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to the young boy.

“My treat.”

“Thanks Dr Lexa!” Aden grasps the money in his hand and scrambles out of seat, before rushing towards the counter.

Clarke lets him go by himself because they’ve been to this parlour more times than she can count and she can see him choosing his next flavour from where they are sat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Clarke says.

“I kind of did. I told him he could have more before asking his mama.” Lexa replies with a smirk on her lips.

Clarke grins. “Thank you then.”

“I’m just happy you’re not upset with me, wouldn’t want to ruin our first date, would I?”

Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise, and the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them, “This is a date?”

Lexa falters, “Oh I thought-“

“No! It’s just normally people don’t suggest going to an ice cream parlour with my son,” she explains.

Lexa looks relieved. “Well, I like Aden,” she shrugs. And then “…and I like you,” she admits softly.

Clarke doesn’t think before replying. “I like you too.”

It looks like Lexa is going to say something else but then Aden is bounding back towards them, a new ice cream cone in his hand.

“Mama!” Aden climbs back into his seat then, “It’s snickers flavour, look,” he shoves the cone under his mom’s nose and doesn’t move it until Clarke takes a lick.

   
  
Their first date without Aden doesn’t go quite as planned. The two women have been seeing each other regularly, but only for coffee or a quick lunch because Lexa’s schedule is crazy busy and Clarke is either teaching lectures at the university or spending time with her son.

But finally they make plans for an official date without Aden (much to his annoyance).

Clarke wanted to surprise the doctor with a nice home cooked meal because even after all these life cycles, Lexa still hasn’t managed to learn how to cook.

So she drops Aden off at Raven’s and sneaks into Lexa’s apartment. She uses the key that the doctor keeps in the plant by her door on the night that Clarke knows she finishes early (the blonde reminds herself to tell Lexa that that is not a very creative hiding spot at all) and makes herself at home in Lexa’s kitchen, which she’s sure has only been used to brew coffee and heat up day old take away.

But what she doesn’t expect is for Lexa’s shift to run over time and the next thing she knows is Lexa is shaking her awake from where she had fallen asleep on the sofa. The living room is dark but Clarke can still see Lexa’s face, and she marvels at the grey in her eyes. She still isn’t quite used to it.

“If I had known what was waiting for me at home I would’ve tried harder get here,” is the first thing Lexa says.

But Clarke just pulls Lexa in for a tender kiss and shakes her head when she pulls away.

“You were saving lives, and you’re here now.”

“Did you know you’re kind of beautiful when you sleep?”

Clarke blushes, “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Clarke eyes Lexa’s smirk and she knows what the woman wants her to do and happily obliges, pressing their lips together once again.

Kissing Lexa is like coming home. But maybe a house on fire. Because it’s familiar and warm and comfortable, but at the same time it’s also passionate and fiery and intense.

Clarke hasn’t slept with someone in a very long time, only once after Aden was born and that had been at least two years ago, but she wasn’t nervous. Because this was Lexa and she made everything easy.

“We can go slow,” Lexa whispers, her voice husky and rough and perfect.

“I just want you.”

They get lost in each other and at some point Lexa drags them both into her bedroom, because the sofa just isn’t comfortable enough. They forget about the food because it’s already cold and Clarke would much rather do this.

 

The pair is breathing heavily, and Lexa rolls of Clarke but keeps their fingers intertwined.

“You know I don’t normally sleep with a girl on the first date,” Clarke says.

“Second,” Lexa corrects.

“Don’t be pedantic,” Clarke chuckles.

“I’m not,” Lexa disagrees lightly, “Our first date was the ice cream parlour with Aden.”

“Fine, our first date without my son.”

“That’s better.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah you’re right.”

Clarke finds a large shirt in Lexa’s closet and pulls it on along with her underwear, her nice black dress long forgotten on the living room floor. Lexa however forgoes a shirt all together and just pulls on her underwear before padding out the bedroom to the kitchen and Clarke doesn’t mind at all.

Clarke follows a second later to find Lexa peaking into the now cold oven at the food she had prepared (she had turned it off before falling asleep on the sofa). She steps up behind her and wraps her arms around her bare waist, running her thumb over Lexa’s smooth skin, just below her bellybutton.

“Sorry about dinner,” Lexa says.

“Don’t be.” Clarke brushes off, but she means it.

“I’ll heat it up.”

Somehow during her heating the food up, Lexa manages to burn the pasta and Clarke doesn’t let her live it down for the rest of this life.

Another day Clarke is sat in the park while Lexa and Aden throw a Frisbee back and forth nearby. A set of water colours is sat next to her on the blanket (they were given to her by Aden and Lexa on the last Mothers Day) and she glances up every now and then from the sketchbook that is perched in her lap, but she doesn’t really need too.

She thinks Lexa’s face is one of the only things she will never forget.

Clarke is so absorbed in her painting that she doesn’t notice her girlfriend come over to her.

“My eyes are grey, Clarke.”

She startles for a second, not expecting the voice, but then she smiles up at Lexa who is leaning over her shoulder slightly.

“I know.”

“You sure about that?” Lexa jokes.

“In another life don’t you think you’d suit green eyes?”

Lexa cocks her head and thinks about it for a moment, “Nah, I don’t think so,” and Clarke almost laughs because here she never thought that Lexa would suit anything but green. She was wrong though, and she almost reprimands herself for thinking that she would find anything about Lexa anything other than beautiful. “Are you saying that you don’t like my eyes?” Lexa asks next, her tone teasing.

“You know I love your eyes.”

They meet halfway for a chaste kiss only to break apart a moment later when Aden interrupts them.

“Eww mama, kissing is gross,” he says scrunching up his nose and Clarke knows it’s impossible because Aden and Lexa are not related at all but the action reminds her so much of her girlfriend’s because she does the same action when she doesn’t like something.

Clarke closes her paints and moves her sketchbook so that she can move closer to her son. She snatches him towards her and he squeal happily.

“So you don’t like my kisses?” she asks, peppering her son’s face with them.

“Mama stop!” he giggles and soon Lexa is joining in and Clarke decides then and there that this just might be her favourite life so far.

   
  
They have fourteen years together when Clarke is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease.

It hits them hard even though they had started to think there was something wrong for a few months (Clarke forgetting how to get home from the university, forgetting how Lexa liked her coffee, her own birthday, becoming more reserved, mood swings).

When Clarke gets home she doesn’t let Lexa comfort her, instead she heads to the bathroom and steps into the shower. She turns it on and barely feels the icy water that clings to the clothes she didn’t bother to take off. The water is supposed to block the sounds of her crying, but Lexa still hears her from where she stands on the other side of the door.

Lexa lets her stay by herself for ten minutes before she steps into the bathroom too and her heart shatters for her wife because she’s never seen her look so hopeless.

Lexa steps into the shower and holds Clarke close and she doesn’t even realise when her own tears start to fall.

Eventually she manages to get Clarke out of her soaking clothes and strips herself down too.

She warms the water up bit by bit.

And the whole time she doesn’t let go, because she needs Clarke to know that she’s not going anywhere.

“We’ll get through this Clarke,” Lexa promises.

“I can’t do this to you, I can’t do this to Aden.”

“You could jump off the edge of the earth and I would jump with you,” Lexa says, and her voice cracks. “We’re in this together.”

Clarke kisses Lexa then and it’s desperate and frantic and Clarke clings to her wife like this is the last time she’ll really remember her.

   
  
They quit their jobs a few weeks later and they head off to see the world because after having Aden, Clarke never really had the chance to see the world in this life, with this Lexa. And so when Clarke suggested it one night Lexa quickly agreed. She never got to see much of the world either going from undergraduate college, to graduate, to her job.

Aden cried when they told him. Six foot three, handsome and strong, their son broke down in his mothers arms and they held him because in that moment that’s all they could do.

At the time, he didn’t really know what Alzheimer's was but he knew it wasn’t good (he didn’t tell his moms that later that night he spent hours researching it on the web or how he cried himself to sleep for the next week).

They visit the places they’ve always wanted to in the US first (Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone National Park, Times Square) before heading for the rest of the world.

Aden joins them on some of it when he can get time off from college, but most of the time it’s just Clarke and Lexa.

Two years later they finish their travels.

A year after that Clarke forgets who Lexa is for the first time.

(Lexa collapses in Raven’s arms and her body wracks with sobs).

The doctors say they’ve never seen Alzheimer’s affect someone this quickly before.

Doctors suggest she is put in a home, but Lexa doesn’t want that for her wife and neither does Clarke.

Clarke’s mind deteriorates for another year and a half before her body starts to as well. She catches the cold far too often, is hospitalised more than once.

She dies one night at the hospital in her sleep with Lexa sleeping on a chair by her bedside, their fingers interlinked.

Lexa is never quite the same in that life.

 

* * *

 

   
Clarke is late, and she hates being late because it’s her job to judge people not the other way around.

She is a well-known food critic in this life and she kind of loves her job because she gets to eat great food on a regular basis and gets paid to do it.

She is already flustered when she rushes through the patisserie door and she is pretty sure she forgot her laptop at home too. She blamed the company for only phoning her half an hour before she was supposed to be at this new up and coming patisserie. The critic barely caught the name of the place before she began dashing around her bedroom to try and get ready on time.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she gasps as she comes to a stop at the counter, “I’m Clarke Griffin.”

The boy, Monty, she notices when she reads his nametag, smiles at her and it relaxes her just a bit.

“It’s alright Ms Griffin, the chef is just in the back, would you like to go get her?”

“Thank you Monty that would be great,” Clarke nods.

He disappears through a door and it gives Clarke a few moments to collect herself. Thankfully the patisserie isn’t very busy yet, it having only opened a few minutes prior. Clarke was supposed to come in before the shop opened, but with her running late that hadn’t quite happened.

But in the end composing herself had been pointless because then the chef walks through the door and starts around the counter. Clarke almost drops her bag from the shock and her jaw definitely does drop.

Because in front of her is her soulmate, in the last place she ever expected to find her.

In all their past lives together Lexa was never good at cooking or baking or any kind of food assembly, yet here she was, the head chef at a patisserie.

Sure this time her hair is blonde and shorter than usual, but Clarke can tell it’s her in an instant.

Clarke knew she must look strange, staring so blatantly at the woman but she can’t help it.

“Ms Griffin? I’m Lexa Wood, the owner and head chef,” she explains with a gentle voice that Clarke had missed.

“Oh I um…I’m sorry, it’s a great to meet you,” the blonde steps forwards to shake her hand.

But then she does something stupid, very stupid; because suddenly she is tripping over her own feet (quite literally) and she topples forwards. She tries to catch herself but only succeeds in catching a display rack which is placed on the counter top and a second later both she and the many colourful pastries are on the floor.

Time seems to freeze for Clarke and she honestly can’t believe that this is how she is meeting her soulmate in this life.

“I am so sorry,” Clarke babbles, “I am not normally like this I swear, you’re just- I mean- this is just…this is just a crazy morning,” she settles on.

She covers her face with her hands and groans because all she wants to do is pinch herself and wake from a dream but she knows this is real and she has well and truly embarrassed herself.

But then she feels a gentle hand on her arm, and when she removes her hand she finds Lexa crouching in front of her, a dazzling smile on her lips and an amused look in her eye. She is holding a cloth in her hand reaching out to brush a smudge of icing off her shoulder.

“Are you hurt Ms Griffin?” she asks quietly.

“Other than my pride, I think I’m fine,” she says and Lexa laughs and it honestly sounds like music to Clarke’s ears.

“I’ve never had a girl fall quite literally fall at my feet before,” Lexa chuckles and Clarke wants to kiss her.

“I can’t say that this is a normal day for me either.”

“Maybe we can get you cleaned up, and then I can bring out some food for you.” Lexa suggests and then Clarke remembers that she is supposed to be trying this woman’s food.

“That sounds great,” Clarke agrees.

Lexa tells Monty to clean up the mess and waves Clarke away when she offers to help, then Lexa leads her behind the counter and through another door to an office like room.

There is a small bathroom coming off of it, and that is where Lexa takes Clarke. She takes the cloth and dampens it and Clarke thinks that she’s just going to give it too her, but then Lexa is reach up and gently wiping the fabric against her skin.

They are standing close and the air gets thicker by the second.

“You are certainly something Ms Griffin,” Lexa grins, and it’s slightly lopsided, Clarke hasn’t seen this smile before but she kind of falls in love with it immediately.

Clarke leans into Lexa’s touch subconsciously and she murmurs, “Are you like this with all your critics?”

“Never,” Lexa states, and Clarke believes her. A moment later Lexa steps back and she clears her throat. “I have a spare shirt in my drawer if you’d like it?”

“That would be good, I think,” she says as she glances down at her now ruined top.

Lexa leaves the bathroom and Clarke can finally breath again, but she immediately misses the heavy comforting feeling in her chest that being around Lexa brings.

She returns a moment later though and hands Clarke a simple grey V-neck shirt.

“I’ll leave you to it. Come out when you’re ready.”

Once Lexa leaves, Clarke is conflicted. Because all she wants to do is change as fast as she can to get back to her soulmate and on the other hand she needs to collect herself or she’s going to embarrass herself again and Lexa will never consider seeing her again.

She changes from her blouse into Lexa’s v-neck before glancing at herself in the mirror. She almost groans because Lexa is slimmer than she is and the shirt cling’s to all her curves. And sure this would be a good look if she was going out but right now she’s supposed to be tasting food and conducting a small interview.

The critic splashes her face with some water from the sink and looks at herself in the mirror again. Her hair is tousled and there’s still icing on her trousers, not to mention she is showing way too much cleavage in this shirt to be considered professional.

If Clarke hadn’t just met her soulmate, she was sure this would be the worst day of this life. But she has met her and so she really shouldn’t be complaining.

When Clarke finally makes her way out of the back room, she finds Lexa sitting at a table in front of her is various pastries and breads, and everything looks delicious ( ~~the food looks pretty good too~~ ).

“These are some of my favourites,” she says once Clarke was sat down.

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.”

“I hope so,” Lexa laughs.

Clarke snaps a few pictures of the pastries before digging in and she moans at how delicious the first tart is. And even if she weren’t a little ( _completely_ ) biased, she would think that these were some of the best pastries she’s ever tried.

They talk and laugh and eat and Clarke almost forgets the reason she’s there in the patisserie in the first place.

All to soon it’s time for Clarke to leave, she can’t stay there all day after all, and Lexa walks her out the shop.

“You know, you make quite the first impression Ms Griffin,” Lexa states, her lips parting ever so slightly. Clarke glances to her lips briefly before remembering to look her in the eye.

Later that night Clarke stays up into the early of the hours to finish the article and send it off to her editor so it can be published as soon as possible.

A week later she receives a phone call from Lexa, thanking her for the spotless reviews and compliments.

The next day Clarke takes Lexa to her favourite restaurant in the city.

In this life Clarke couldn’t have embarrassed herself more when she first met her soulmate, but somehow Lexa still falls in love with her.

 

* * *

 

  
Clarke has already learnt the hard way that there’s the possibility that she might meet Lexa in a life but not end up with her, she’s already witnessed that first hand.

But she never thought it would be because they didn’t work.

But now Clarke is sat in their kitchen, a place that should feel homely and warm and safe. A place where they should cook dinner together at night, where she should make breakfast for her wife and bring it to her in bed in the morning.

It is none of that. It’s cold, and harsh and a reminder of what they were so close to having.

Tears well up in Clarke’s eyes as Lexa throws divorce papers on the table.

Clarke’s heart has shattered before in her other lifes, but nothing ever felt like this, because she can’t help but think that there must be something that she can do. _Anything_.

But they argue. They argue all the time about the smallest things that shouldn’t matter but do.

Clarke thinks it’s their jobs; they barely have enough time for themselves, not to mention each other.

But she can’t help but think that maybe their personalities have changed just a little bit too much in this life cycle, and Clarke fears that they’re slipping apart, that maybe this is how it will be in her lifes to come. That she will be forced to remember each life as their personalities change until their souls no longer match.

“Clarke,” Lexa snaps, “Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

“I…”

“See, this is exactly why we don’t work. You never listen to me.”

“Lexa please don’t do this.” Clarke pleads, “We’re supposed to be together, I know it.”

“Don’t pull that soulmate crap on me, if we were supposed to be together I wouldn’t be feeling like this.”

“I love you.”

For a moment she see’s Lexa’s shoulder relax and Clarke thinks that maybe Lexa will say she loves her too, but then her back is stiff again and the moment of hope is gone as soon as Clarke noticed it.

“…Sign the papers Clarke.”

In that life Clarke learns that sometimes love just isn’t enough. And she wishes for the next to come.

 

* * *

 

  
Clarke revels in the fact that she finds Lexa in her next life, that she doesn’t have to wait several life cycles to see her next, because as soon as Clarke’s old enough to remember, she starts to miss her.

So when she walks into the office one morning to find Lexa sitting at a desk, she stops in her tracks.

Her hair is tied back in carefully constructed braids, a pressed white blouse covers her torso and a blazer jacket is hung over the back of her chair. She is well dressed for an assistant at an architecture firm, but then again, it’s her first day.

Clarke resists the urge to go over to her soulmate straight away; she doesn’t want to scare her off. And for the moment, it’s enough to know that she’s found her. Talking to her can wait; hopefully they’ll have this lifetime.

So instead Clarke heads into her office; the one she was appointed the year before when she became senior architect.

It’s a good office. Light, open, spacious, very easy to work in, but the door jams on the frame though and Clarke always smiles at it because it’s kind of ironic that the door is just a bit to big for the frame in a building full of architects.

Her first opportunity to speak to Lexa comes to her by chance when she goes into the office kitchen to make a cup of coffee and she finds the woman already there.

Clarke halts in the doorway just as Lexa turns and looks at her and it takes a moment for her to remember to act normal.

She can see her more clearly now, and she immediately notices the numerous freckles that dust her nose. She wonders if her eyes are the same.

Then Lexa is smiling at her softly, probably just as a way of recognition, and it has her heart pounding and her palms sweating.

She remembers how to move her legs after a second and continues into the kitchen, reaching for one of the to go cups near the coffee machine that the office supplies.

“Morning,” Clarke says and she thanks all the Gods in the world, that her voice doesn’t break.

“Good morning, Ms Griffith.” Lexa replies and Clarke isn’t surprised that the woman already knows her name.

“How is working for Mr Jordan?” she asks next, willing the conversation to continue.

“It’s…” she pauses to find the right word and Clarke feels a smirk appear on her lips because she knows that Mr Jordan isn’t easy to work with. He’s old and he’s grumpy and he’s demanding. But he has a great mind and is an amazing architect and the company would be foolish to let him go. “It’s educational,” Lexa finally settles on.

Clarke let’s a soft laugh escape and she grins when she see’s a small smile appear on Lexa’s lips.

“Don’t you mean dull?” Clarke jokes.

It looks like Lexa want’s to laugh too but she doesn’t, her smile does remain in place though. She clears her throat, “Your words Ms Griffith,” she says.

“Ah yes probably not a good idea to trash talk your boss in your first week,” Clarke says as she stirs cream into her coffee. Clarke realises that now that her coffee is made she has no real reason to stay in the kitchen so she starts towards the door. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Clarke is almost out the door when she hears Lexa speak again, “I’m Lexa by the way, Lexa Woods.”

_I know._

Clarke turns to face her soulmate, “It’s nice to meet you Lexa.”

 

  
She knows it’s sad, but Clarke starts to come up with any excuse she can get to talk to Lexa.

On more than one occasion over the next few months Clarke walked up to Lexa’s desk to arrange a meeting with Mr Jordan, only to then have to come up with something to talk to him about for an hour each time.

Not to mention that from Clarke’s office she could just about see the edge of Lexa’s desk, and every time she saw her get up to go to the kitchen she would go too.

Clarke want’s nothing else than to ask Lexa out, outside of work, but the woman was a complete professional and she knew that she would never agree to it.

 

  
One night Clarke is out at a club with her best friend in this life cycle, her name is Octavia and she’s out going and athletic and beautiful. They met in college at a frat party and ended up falling into bed with each other that same night. The next day they had gone for breakfast together and decided then and there that they were better off as friends.

And even though she loves her, Clarke knows she really shouldn’t be out because she still has a lot of work to do this weekend.

“Octavia, I should probably get going now,” she said, hoping she could get some things done if she left now.

“Clarke we literally just got here. And I’m not even using literally in that annoying way you hate. I mean we literally just got here.” Octavia says, and technically she’s not wrong, they did just get to the club, but they had been at a bar fifteen minutes ago.

“Octavia,” the architect whined.

“Please,” the brunette begged, “You never come out anymore, and I hardly ever see you. You’re always working,” she pouts and Clarke sighs because Octavia knew she couldn’t say no to that pout.

“I-“

“You have the whole weekend to do whatever drawing crap you need to get done, but tonight we are going to drink, and we are going to dance and we are going to have fun. Ok?” she asks, but really it sounds more like a demand.

Clarke rolls her eyes but nods, “Fine. And then you can’t drag me out for another month. Got it?”

Octavia purses her lips before saying, “Deal,” accompanied by a dramatic sigh that has Clarke rolling her eyes good naturedly. “Ok, great! I’m going to go get us some drinks.”

 

  
Clarke is two beers and three tequila shots in when she spots her. She’s dressed in a sleeveless grey shirt, black jeans and combat boots with a flannel shirt tied around her waist. Clarke’s jaw drops because she’s only seen Lexa dressed in work clothes in this life and she almost forgot how beautiful she was when she dressed down.

“Clarke you’re drooling.”

“Huh- what?”

“Who are you staring at?”

“Do you want another round?”

“It’s the blonde dude with a shirt a size too small isn’t’ it?”

“I want another round.” She goes to stand up.

“Clarke-“

But she’s already gone. Clarke weaves her way through the crowd of people to the bar. It’s busy but she manages to push her way to the front. Getting the bartenders attention is another story.

Suddenly, she feels a hand on her lower back and a voice next to her ear.

“What can I get you?”

And Clarke freezes because she would know that voice anywhere. She turns to find Lexa standing next to her, heavy eyeliner and musky perfume. Her eyes reveal that she’s probably already had her fair share of drinks, as well as her dopey smile on her lips.

But then a second later Lexa’s hand is gone and her face pales and she takes a step back.

“Ms Griffith.” Lexa gulps. “I am so sorry,” she says, as she struggles not to slur her words.

Clarke just smirks. “Ms Woods."

“I- I…I should probably just go.”

Her cheeks are flushed and Clarke knows that the girl is thoroughly embarrassed from hitting on one of her superiors. Clarke on the other hand was very happy with tonight’s events and she made a note to thank Octavia for dragging her out.

Then Clarke says, “What about that drink?” She’s mostly teasing, but it does make Lexa pause her exit.

“Oh I mean I can still-“

“I’m teasing Lexa,” Clarke chuckles.

Lexa rubs her hands down her thighs nervously, “Right.”

“You don’t have to get me a drink.”

“No, let me.” She waves down the bartender and Clarke isn’t surprised when a moment later a handsome young man is there to take her order. Lexa is beautiful after all. “What are you having?” she asks.

“Whatever you’re getting,” Clarke replies.

Lexa orders them two beers and soon Clarke is being handed a cool glass, “Here you go Ms Griffith.”

“Clarke.”

“I’m sorry?” Lexa asks.

“You can call me Clarke. We’re not at work,” she shrugs and then just because she can, she teases, “Plus you already hit on me, I figure we’re on a first name basis.”

That makes Lexa’s cheek flush instantly and Clarke has to stop herself from smiling at the way it makes her freckles that much more prominent.

“Please can we never speak of this again,” Lexa groans. “I promise I don’t normally go out, or drink. If my friend hadn’t made me drink this much I don’t think I would’ve even had the confidence to do that,” she says as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“You don’t have to make excuses Lexa, you’re allowed to do whatever you want outside of the office.” Clarke replies easily, taking advantage of the time that Lexa has her eyes shut to check out her nicely toned arms.

“I should probably go back to my friend,” Lexa says awkwardly.

“Me too,” Clarke agrees, even though she doesn’t want too.

“It was nice to see you Ms G- er Clarke.”

Clarke hates to watch Lexa leave but knows she will see her on Monday, and so really she can’t be too upset. She waits until Lexa is back with her friend, an attractive blonde with high cheekbones and piercing eyes. She see’s them turn to her only for Lexa to spin back around when she realised that Clarke was still looking, and she knows that they’re talking about her.

It makes her feel oddly satisfied.

When Clarke makes her way back to her own friend she receives a glare.

“If you weren’t talking to a hot girl, I would be seriously annoyed at you for abandoning me,” she states. “Hey, you didn’t even get me a beer!”

Clarke laughs. “Sorry. I can go if you want.”

“No, no. You’ll probably be gone for another twenty minutes if you do,” Octavia retorts but Clarke knows that she isn't really mad. “So was she the girl you were ogling earlier?”

“I wasn’t ogling anyone.”

“So that’s a yes,” Octavia snorts.

“She works at my firm.”

“She’s hot.”

“It complicates things.”

“You like her?” Clarke doesn’t bother denying it and nods. “Ask her out then.”

“It’s complicated.”

“How come?”

“She’s very professional, I’m not technically her boss because she’s Jordan’s assistant but I still doubt she’d be one to go out with one of the senior architects,” Clarke sighs, and maybe it’s her drunken mind but she seriously considers quitting her job in that moment. “You should’ve seen her reaction when she accidentally hit on me.”

Octavia throws her head back and laughs loudly, “She hit on you?? That’s amazing. What do you mean it was an accident?”

“She didn’t realise it was me, and when she did she panicked.”

“Don’t worry Griffith, there’s plenty of hot girls here tonight, I’m sure we can still get you laid.” Octavia says.

Clarke doesn’t tell her that there’s only one person she would consider sleeping with now, and she’s just across the room.

 

Its uncomfortable on Monday, to say the least, because Lexa is still very much embarrassed, maybe even more so than she was on the actual night that she hit on her.

When Clarke walks into work, Lexa only offers her a bashful smile before going back to typing on her computer leaving Clarke with the only option of continuing into her office.

So Clarke is more than surprised when she hears a knock on her door only too look up and finding Lexa standing there.

“Ms Woods, please come in.”

Lexa closes the door behind her as she comes in before moving to stand in front of Clarke’s desk, her arms crossed nervously in front of her.

“I um- I hope that you have still forgiven me for my behaviour on Friday night. I am…mortified to say the least,” Lexa chuckles dryly.

“Lexa, you have nothing to worry about,” she assured.

“It’s just that you are my superior and I do not want to be seen as someone who-“

“Lexa.” Clarke interrupted. “It’s forgotten, ok?”

Lexa’s shoulder’s relaxed and she sighs loudly and Clarke couldn’t help but smile at how relieved she looked.

“Thank you Ms Griffith.”

   
 

It’s almost Christmas, and Clarke and Lexa are still just colleagues. But Clarke is sure that Lexa feels something for her because she notices Lexa’s lingering glances and her subtle touches if they’re in the kitchen making coffee together. And she just knows that she’s not reading into things too much.

Clarke sips at her glass of wine and glances around the office. It’s the annual Christmas party and the office is filled with decorations, party hats and her slightly drunk colleagues.

Lexa isn’t there yet though and Clarke can only hope that she shows.

Her soulmate arrives half an hour later and Clarke’s stomach drops when she see’s a girl on her arm. Clarke recognises her as the friend that she was with at the club those many months ago and her heart lurches because she had thought they were just friends. For a second she wonders why Lexa didn’t tell her but then she remembers that they aren’t really friends in this life, they are just colleagues.

The architect watches as the girl says something to Lexa before moving towards the drinks table.

It’s then that Lexa notices Clarke and she can’t look away in time. Lexa catches her gaze and then she’s walking towards her.

Clarke holds her breath.

“Evening Ms Griffith.” Lexa says, her voice smooth. Clarke lets out a shaky breath that she tries to hide by taking another sip of her wine.

“Ms Woods.”

“You know, I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas,” Lexa says with a shake of her head, “Time really flew by this year.”

Clarke wants to ask who the girl is that she came with but she stops herself and instead she says, “It really has.”

Just then the girl comes over handing Lexa a drink, holding her own in her hand. “Rum and coke, your favourite.”

“Thanks Anya.” Anya, Clarke thinks, she already hates the name. “Anya, this is Clarke Griffith, one of the senior architects.”

Clarke sends Anya a tight-lipped smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “So how did you two meet?”

“Oh I met this squirt when she was in diapers,” Anya says and Lexa huffs.

“Anya you’re only one year older than me,” she states, her cheeks flushed.

“And that year counts,” she smirks.

A lump forms in Clarke’s throat because there is no way she can compete with a girl that Lexa’s known since before she was potty trained.

“So a while then,” Clarke tries to say lightly.

“Too long,” Anya jokes and Lexa shoves her gently and Clarke feels like she might throw up.

“I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me.”

She disappears as fast as she can without running and makes her way into her office. She closes the door behind her even though it’s glass, but it provides her with a little sense of privacy.

Her glass clinks as she sets it down on her wooden desk, she brings her hands up and rubs them down her face. She needs to calm down, and she may just have to come to accept that this is another life where she and Lexa do not end up together.

She takes her glass again and moves to the window. Her view from her window is one of her favourites in the city and it calms her, if only a little. She raises her glass to her lips and takes a large gulp.

Clarke is so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear the door open behind her, and she jumps when she hears someone clear their throat.

It’s Lexa. Of course it’s Lexa.

“Are you ok, Clarke?” she asks, concerned, and Clarke ignores the way her heart jumps when her soulmate says her name.

“I’m fine,” she lies.

“I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well, you looked a little pale when you left.”

“Um, yeah I wasn’t but I’m good now.”

“Ok, I’m glad.”

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” Clarke says, eager to change the subject from her current state of mind.

“It is,” Lexa agrees as she moves further into the room.

Clarke forgets how to breath when she only stops when she’s standing right next to her. Clarke looks at her like she’s lighting up the whole city and she wonders if Lexa realises that’s what she’s thinking.

“Don’t you think we should get back to the party?” Lexa asks, she steps closer as if she’s in a trance and Clarke thinks she must not know what she’s doing to her.

“Probably.”

Lexa touches her forearm gently, “Let’s go then.”

“Lexa,” Clarke’s breath hitches, “I can’t be this close to you,” she says, almost a whisper.

Lexa snaps her arm away and steps back, as if suddenly realising what she was doing.

“I’m sorry.”

Clarke just shakes her head, because she can’t do this anymore. She can’t just pretend that she isn’t in love with the woman in front of her anymore.

“Don’t be. Every moment since I first saw you sitting at your desk all those months ago I’ve wanted to kiss you,” she says, refusing to meet Lexa’s eye. “But you have a girlfriend, and I’m your superior and I know you don’t feel the same. So I should just go.”

She strides towards the door quickly and soon she’s out the room, she can’t face going back to the party so instead she heads down the corridor to the kitchen. But she only has one food through the door when she feels a hand on her arm.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” is the first thing Lexa says.

“You don’t? I thought Anya-“

“Anya is my best friend and she basically forced me to bring her once she found out there would be free booze.” Lexa explains in a rush.

Clarke blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Lexa breathes. “So…you want to kiss me, huh?”

This time Clarke blushes, and she nods.

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that-“

She’s cut off by a pair of lips on her own and she quickly gets caught up in the kiss. Lexa’s hand finds it’s way into her hair and Clarke clutches her closer.

“I thought-” Kiss. “I never thought you’d be ok with this.” Kiss. Kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you too,” their lips brush as Lexa speaks.

“I’m your superior,” Clarke reminds. “We could get in trouble for this. You could get in trouble.”

That makes Lexa pull away, and Clarke thinks that she’s ruined it. _I should’ve kept my mouth shut_.

But then…

“For some crazy reason, I think you might just be worth it.”

 

* * *

 

In their next life they meet when they are old and grey.

Their lives have already been lived, but they still have their stories to tell.

Their skin is wrinkled from days under the sun and the years that they have burdened without the other. Lexa’s bones are frail and Clarke’s hands shake.

But Lexa holds Clarke’s hands in her own to steady them.

And Clarke supports Lexa when she walks.

And over games of chess and bingo, nights of watching old classics, days spent reading and sitting in the garden, they manage to fall just as hard for each other as if they were in their teens travelling the world.

Everyone thinks that Lexa is the grumpy old lady that she portrays herself as but Clarke see’s right through the act. She just hates how her body has changed over the years when her mind has stayed young. Clarke understands her. She understands her want to be free and _alive_.

Clarke thinks all she needs to feel alive is Lexa, and it doesn’t take Lexa long to share this same view.

  
 

They don’t have long together in this life.

But they savour each minute.

Five years after they meet Lexa catches pneumonia and is hospitalised.

She dies two weeks later.

The next night, Clarke’s body gives up on her and she dies peacefully in her sleep.

Her last thought is that soon she will meet her love again.

 

* * *

 

In their next life together they meet in college.

Clarke is running because now she’s late to her first lecture, she had left with plenty of time to get there only to walk halfway and realise she forgot one of her textbooks and that weeks assignment.

She rounds a corner only to crash straight into a wall, which causes her to tumble straight onto the pavement.

Except when she looks up the wall isn’t a wall at all, instead it’s a beautiful girl with sharp cheekbones, harsh eyes, and hair scraped back in a tight ponytail.

She’s dressed in sport gear and Clarke finds herself ogling her soulmate’s muscled legs before she’s even said her first word to her in this life.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke apologises from her place on the floor.

Lexa glares at her. “Don’t you watch where you’re going?” she snaps.

And sure Clarke is kind of already in love with her sharp voice and slight accent that she can’t place, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to let her push her around. So she glares right back.

“What you don’t even offer to help me up?” she retorts, not waiting for her to Lexa to even offer before standing up.

Clarke rubs her elbow and grimaces because that’s going to hurt tomorrow.

“You ran into me, why would I be the one to apologise?”

“Maybe because _you_ knocked _me_ over?”

“You ran into me!” Lexa exclaims. “You know what I can’t do this, I’m already late to track.”

Then Lexa is running off and Clarke is shouting too her, “Well fuck you because I’m going to be late too!”

And then Clarke is dashing off to her lecture.

As she sits in the back row, she can’t help but think how this definitely was not one of the best first meetings. But she also can’t help but smile, because she found her, now all she had to do was get Lexa to fall in love with her.

 

  
It takes until after midterms for Clarke to talk to Lexa again. She’s seen her around, but only for brief seconds before she’s gone again. And she figures they must be doing completely different courses because she never ever sees the girl. (Later she finds out that Lexa spends most of her free time in the gym and then Clarke really understands why she never see’s her because she hasn’t set foot in a gym since high school when it was mandatory).

Now that midterms are over everyone is celebrating, so Clarke let’s Bellamy, a footballer and friend on her course, drag her to a house party. He is kind and quite and soft-spoken and basically the exact opposite of what most people assume about him and it’s kind of why she loves him.

He thrusts a solo cup into her hand and she trusts him so she sips from it immediately. There’s music blaring from speakers that she can’t see, and more people than she be allowed in a house this size. They’re mostly tall athletic people around her and Clarke feels a little out of place. Bellamy explains then that it’s mostly people on sport teams here and she gets it.

Clarke really shouldn’t have been surprised then, when an hour later on her way back from the bathroom she bumps into someone by accident and it’s Lexa. Because of course the world was just that ironic.

Clarke trips into her and she falls into her friend who asks, “You ok Lexa?” and she nods before turning to her attacker.

“It’s you,” Lexa states, her gaze hardening.

“It was an accident.” Clarke says.

“You spilt my beer.”

“Can’t you say anything nice?”

“Nope.” Lexa crosses her arms over her chest. Clarke fights the urge to look at the rise of her breasts.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry.”

“Neither am I.”

“The kitchen’s this way.”

“Huh?” Lexa says, confused.

“You probably want another beer, right?” Clarke shrugs. “Whatever, I’m going to get another drink anyway.”

She’s slightly surprised when Lexa follows her because she really thought Lexa would go back to ignoring her, but she feels her presence behind her as she weaves her way through the crowd of horny teens and young adults to get to the kitchen.

It’s not much quieter in there, but there’s slightly more space and most importantly there’s alcohol.

Clarke reaches into an ice bucket and pulls out two cans of beer, handing one to Lexa and opening the other for herself.

“Cheers,” Lexa states, raising her can slightly.

She goes to take a sip but stops when Clarke asks, “What are we cheers-ing to?”

Lexa shrugs, “Me hating you slightly less for getting me this beer?” she suggests lightly and Clarke laughs.

“Sure.”

They tap their cans together and drink, eyeing each other over the tops of their cans.

“You know, you say you hate me, but you don’t know me. You don't even know my name,” Clarke says.

“You don’t know mine,” Lexa retorts.

“Well I don’t hate you,” Clarke replies. “And I do know your name, _Lexa_.”

“Stalking me?”

Clarke scoffs, “Please, don’t think so highly of yourself. Your friend said it earlier,” she says (and it’s only a half lie, because her friend did say it, she just knew her name before).

“Whatever.”

“Don’t you want to know my name?”

“Nope.”

The biology student thinks Lexa is going to leave then, but she doesn’t, she stays where she is and just takes another gulp from her beer. Clarke does the same.

She clears her throat, “So where’s your accent from?” she asks once she lowers her drink.

“Ireland,” Lexa replies and Clarke raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Parents moved us out there for my mum’s work when I was six. We stayed for six years. I picked up the accent,” she explains simply.

“Why’d you move back?”

“The job finished.”

“You don’t like to use many words do you?” Clarke laughs and Lexa quirks an eyebrow as if to say ‘so?’.

“No more than I need to- oh shit!” Lexa’s sentence ends with a harsh hiss and her eyes turn frantic.

Clarke spins around, wondering what exactly is happening.

“Oh fucking shit, fuck balls.” Lexa swears.

Clarke wonders if swearing is an Irish thing because she doesn’t remember Lexa swearing like this in any of their other lives.

“What is it?”

“Ex.” Lexa states and Clarke spots her immediately. Tanned skin, soft brown hair, wide eyes. She’s attractive, Clarke admits.

And she’s coming towards them.

“What are you doing?” Lexa whispers, her voice harsh but quiet, as Clarke wraps her arm around Lexa’s waist and pulls her closer.

“Just go with it,” Clarke murmurs.

She rubs her thumbs over the skin just above the hem of Lexa’s jeans and she doesn’t miss the way that Lexa’s body involuntarily shudders at the action. It makes her smirk and Lexa just glares at her.

“Well Lexa, looks like you found a new girl to fuck.” Lexa’s ex is next to them then and Clarke cringes at her voice.

“Emori.” Lexa says.

“Lexa.” Emori smirks. “What’s this girls name then?”

“Fuck off.”

“You probably don’t even know, you’re probably just going to fuck her and leave her the next morning.”

Clarke almost laughs at the irony, but then…

“Don’t fucking talk about Clarke like that,” Lexa all but growls and Clarke stops herself from reacting.

Emori just smirks at them once more, before disappearing back into the crowd and it takes Clarke a second to remember to let go of her soulmate.

“You know my name,” she accuses and Lexa blushes. “How do you know my name?”

“I…”

“Stalking me?” Clarke mocks and she chuckles at the dark shade of red Lexa’s cheeks are.

“Shut up,” she huffs. Clarke finds it adorable.

And she thinks that maybe Lexa doesn’t hate her as much as she lets on.

(Later she finds out that Lexa searched for her on various social media sites the same night she bumped into her the first night just to find her name.)

That night Lexa takes Clarke back to her dorm and Clarke discovers that she definitely likes sporty Lexa because she’s never been this _toned_ before in their other lifes.

In this life they are almost polar opposites, and Clarke unlearns a lesson that she thought she’d learnt all those years ago. They _can_ be different and they _can_ be in love.

Lexa spends most of her free time exercising. Clarke lounges on the sofa.

Clarke studies most weekends. Lexa hates picking up her textbooks.

Lexa is fit and agile. Clarke trips over her own feet on a regular basis.

Clarke likes pop music. Lexa loves rock.

Lexa is a dog person. Clarke is a cat person.

They’re different, they clash in an flurry of electric sparks but they come to love each other for their differences.

And that’s all that really matters.

 

* * *

 

  
Clarke never thought she would get to meet her soulmate in this life.

The Ark was home to 2,658 people and not a single one of them was named Lexa. And Clarke accepted that.

Her home was a floating death trap, one that was destined to kill them all, but then they fell to Earth and for a brief moment she had hope. That was before everything went to shit.

 

  
Clarke see’s Lexa on her 38th day on Earth. She sits on her throne, dagger in hand and her face marred with war paint.

The Commander.

Clarke thinks that she’s supposed to be intimidating, that she should feel scared. But she just falls in love again.

It doesn’t surprise Clarke that Lexa is living a life where she’s in power. She has always been brave and strong. A leader. (and as she sits there Clarke wonders for a brief second if Lexa can cook in this life).

 

  
When Lexa kisses her eleven days later it is unlike any other kiss they’ve shared because this Lexa is different. She’s vulnerable and scared underneath layers of thick skin and years of hard decisions and suffering.

When Lexa leaves her at the Mountain, Clarke’s heart breaks and it hurts that much more, because Clarke can’t help but love Lexa still.

When she wanders for three months, she dreams of her soulmate. She dreams of their past together and wonders what their future in this life holds.

But Clarke has already learnt that love is not always enough, and the deaths of the innocent and of her people have weighed down her shoulders for months by the next time she see’s her soulmate.

Emotion rushes from her. Anger. Hatred. Frustration.

And in that moment when she shouts, “I’ll _kill_ you!” she means it.

And it terrifies her.

But they are soulmates. Their lives are intertwined for eternity, and they are destined to come back together, whether it’s in this life or another.

Clarke’s resolve begins to quickly fall apart; because she can see Lexa knows what she did was wrong. She can feel Lexa’s love for her.

And then her soulmate bows to her, and she knows she is a goner. Because the Commander of the 12 clans is on her knees in front of her and Clarke has to fight the urge to crash their lips together.

Instead, she holds out her hand and pulls Lexa to her feet and it feels like the first step forward.

 

Clarke needs to return to the Ark. A war is brewing and she needs to stop it before it begins. But she can’t leave without seeing Lexa one last time.

When she goes to Lexa’s bedroom she doesn’t know what she plans to do. But then her soulmate appears. Her eyes reveal her surprise at her presence.

“When do you go?” she asks, her voice softer than Clarke has heard it since before the mountain.

Clarke swallows the lump in her throat, and it almost gets caught.

“Now.”

She see’s the heartbreak in her soulmate’s eyes, and then all she can do is kiss her. It’s instinct as she moves forwards and captures Lexa’s lips in her own.

Lexa sucks in a shuddering breath, Clarke feels hot tears against her cheeks and the taste of salt on her lips.

Clarke uses muscle memory as she brings her hand up to untie Lexa’s shirt, slipping her bra off her shoulder as she does so.

Lexa is home. Lexa is her sun. She helps her grow in every life cycle that they share together.

 

  
BANG!

Clarke hears the sound before she realises what’s happened. But then she’s see’s Lexa and she just knows.

She catches Lexa as she falls as black blood seeps from her body soaking into her shirt, draining her life.

“Your spirit is staying right here Lexa. I will fix you.” Clarke states, because she needs her. She needs Lexa. Especially in this life.

But the blood doesn’t stop and Clarke can feel her fading fast.

“The next Commander will protect you,” Lexa whispers, her voice already weak.

“I don’t want the next Commander. I want _you_.”

She presses her lips to Lexa’s, as if maybe that would be enough to bring her back.

But she’s gone; Clarke let’s out a choked sob that she couldn’t hold back if she tried.

As she gently closes her soulmate’s eyes, her fingers stained black, Clarke thinks that this just might be the most painful death yet.

   
 

* * *

 

  
Clarke doesn’t have a chance to miss Lexa in this life because when she’s seventeen the virus starts to spread. She’s not sure where it starts but soon it’s everywhere and it’s too late to stop it.

It starts as quiet murmurs of a new disease (like Ebola or swine flu) that no one pays too much attention to. Then come the news reports. And a month later the outbreaks begin.

The world starts to spiral downwards, out of control. It tears peoples lives apart and for a while everyone tries to cling to their past lives.

Clarke pretends that it’s not real, lives her life like people aren’t turning all around her. But then one day her mom is bitten at the hospital. She stumbles home, her fever high and her body clammy. She turns later that night and Clarke sobs as she has to make the kill before she gets bitten too.

From then on all her thoughts are focused on one thing.

Survival.

   
 

Clarke finds her soulmate in a life when she wasn’t looking for her.

She finds her when she’s on a supply run. She see’s her racing down the street three months after her mother dies, and at first Clarke doesn’t realise it’s her. She just see’s an injured girl running with a slight limp and a horde of walkers behind her.

It’s instinct as she speeds up her motorcycle. She attracts the attention of the walkers, but she’s faster than them and just rushes past until she’s skidding to a stop in front of the girl.

Her heart leaps into her chest when she about to save, but then she notices the horde approaching and she doesn’t have time to be caught up in the moment of meeting her soulmate in this life.

She whips out her pistol, that she keeps tucked into the back of her jeans and fires. Her soulmate screams and then ducks to the floor just as the nearest walker does the same.

“Get on.” Clarke orders.

“Who are you?”

 _Your soulmate._ “I’m a girl about to save your ass.”

Lexa looks to the horde again. They’re close. Then she rushes towards the blonde and hops on the motorcycle behind her.

Clarke speeds off, heading to the house she’s been staying in for the past few days, leaving the horde in the distance behind them. She drives around the house and into the open garage, before hopping off her bike and going to close the garage door behind them.

It slams shut and the only light comes from a cracked window to their right. When Clarke turns back around she finds Lexa off the bike, her arms crossed protectively in front of her.

“Are you gonna kill me now?”

“Why the hell would I save you, just to kill you?”

She shrugs. Then Clarke notices the rip in the girls jeans and becomes wary. “You’re not bitten, are you?” she asks, glancing to her leg.

Lexa grimaces. “No. I fell,” she says and Clarke nods.

“Let’s get that cleaned up.”

The house was trashed when Clarke found it and it’s still in a pretty bad state. Plates smashed, sofa’s ripped, curtains shredded. But the locks worked and for now there was still water.

Clarke guided Lexa into the living room, she had cleared out the small room because there were no windows but three exits. She had made herself a bed on the floor out of the few cushions that survived and swept up all the broken glass and debris. What few belongings she had were kept safely in the backpack on her back.

She tossed her bag onto the floor before crouching next to it and rummaging through it. A second later she pulled out a first aid kit.

“Strip.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your leg?”

“Right.”

Lexa drops her backpack onto the floor near Clarke’s and reaches for the button of her jeans.

Clarke can feel Lexa’s discomfort so she turns and fiddles with the first aid kit in her hands even though she knows a moment later she’s going to have to look at the girl.

When she turns back around Lexa’s jeans are folded next to her as she sits on the edge of her makeshift bed. Clarke can see that she is relieved to have the weight of her injured limb.

Next she eyes the wound, it’s a jagged cut and it glints where the dim light in the room reflects of several pieces of glass embedded in the girls skin.

Clarke crouches next to her, her hand hovers over her soulmates leg and she looks into her eyes for permission. When she nods, Clarke gets to work.

“You saved me. Why?” Lexa asks, as Clarke begins to pick pieces of glass out of the wound. She’s relieved to see that it, in fact, isn’t too deep and it probably doesn’t need stitches.

“Can’t a girl save a pretty girl, no questions asked?” Clarke jokes and she thinks she see’s Lexa blush.

“I mean it.”

She shrugs. “I figure in a world where the dead is up and walking, the few of us that are still alive should stick together.”

Lexa sucks in a sharp breath as Clarke swipes an antiseptic wipe over her cut. It stings and she clamps her eyes shut as she fights the pain.

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she says through clenched teeth. Clarke begins to apply a few butterfly stitches to the wound when she asks, “What’s your name?” and Clarke thinks that she’s trying to distract herself from the pain.

“Clarke.”

“That’s a guys name,” the brunette says and Clarke barks a laugh.

“I’ve never followed gender norms,” she winks.

“I like it.”

“Thanks hot stuff,” Clarke smirks. “And what do I call you?”

“Alexandra.”

Clarke arches an eyebrow because she’s lived many lives but her soulmate has never gone by her full name before. “That’s quite a mouthful.”

“It’s my name.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well it’s a good thing it’s not your name then,” Lexa retorts and even though Clarke thinks she likes this sassy Lexa she still rolls her eyes.

“Well,” she says after a moment, “You’re all fixed up.”

She taps Lexa’s thigh and the girl winces. “Ouch.”

Clarke chuckles lowly, “You’ll live to fight another day Lex.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, rather she glowers at her but Clarke pays her no mind. The apocalypse has hardened her up some. Instead she packs up her first aid kit quickly and tucks it back inside her bag. Then she searches around inside her bag again, this time pulling out an item of clothing.

When she holds it out to Lexa, she looks at it questioningly.

“What is this?”

“Shorts, I can’t imagine you’ll want to tug jeans on over those butterfly stitches. Unless you do, then be my guest.”

“I can’t run around in shorts.”

“You shouldn’t go out there just yet, it’s getting dark. It’s not safe.”

“And I’m safe here, with you?” Lexa asks.

“Yes,” Clarke replies sincerely. Just then Lexa’s stomach growls loudly and Clarke chuckles at the sound. “You’re hungry. I’m pretty sure I saw a few cans in the kitchen the other morning.”

Silently, they make their way to the kitchen and Clarke searches the cupboards, coming up with two cans of beans and another of sweet corn. They can’t find a can opener so Clarke brings out her knife, it takes longer than a can opener but soon they sat on Clarke’s makeshift bed, digging into their cold dinner.

“Here.” Lexa says and Clarke looks to find Lexa holding a lollipop.

“Where did you get that?” she asks.

“I was on a supply run too.” She explains.

“And all you got was a lollipop?”

“No you jerk.” Lexa huffs. “I needed new clothes and they were in a jar by the cash register.”

Clarke takes the candy with a soft smile (she kind of enjoys how easy Lexa is to rile up), “Thanks.”

She shrugs, “You saved me today.”

“And in return I get candy and a pretty girl in my bed. A pretty good day, if I do say so myself.”

“God, you’re frustrating.”

The blonde tosses her empty can of beans onto the floor and leans back with a sigh. “Yeah, but I think you need a sense of humour to survive in this world.”

“You need weapons, and food, and shelter.”

“But is that really living?”

“Making jokes is living?”

“Making jokes keeps me human.”

A silence settles over them, and Lexa finishes her food. Once she’s done she places her can down too. She turns to face Clarke slightly.

“So you’re alone?” Clarke nods. “…Me too.”

“How’ve you survived this long?” but before Lexa can get offended Clarke says, “I don’t mean to be rude, but you didn’t look like the most equip person to survive an apocalypse.”

“To be honest it’s just been luck. I stay in this empty house and lock the doors. I only leave when I need more supplies.”

“Where’s your family?”

“Dead.” Lexa replies. Clarke can hear the sadness in her voice, but her face doesn’t show it, if anything she just sees acceptance in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“It happened,” she shrugs. “After that it was just me and my girlfriend. She was bitten two months ago.” Clarke doesn’t say she’s sorry again, this time she rests her hand on top of the girls and squeezes gently before letting go. “I guess I don’t have to ask how you’ve survived,” she says, obviously trying to change the conversation.

“What’s that mean?”

“Miss motorcycle riding gun shooting badass.”

“You think I’m badass?” Clarke feels a grin on her lips.

“Shut up.” Lexa blushes.

They talk for a while longer, but they’re both exhausted and at one point Lexa yawns and they both take it as their signal to go to sleep. They don’t really talk about sleeping arrangements.

They both kind of just crawl under the covers together and savour the human connection because when you’re alive in the apocalypse it more often than not feels like you’re the only person left on the planet.

When Lexa tucks her head under Clarke’s chin, she wraps her arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer.

She hears Lexa take a shuddering breath and Clarke wonders in that moment how long her soulmate will stay.

 

  
They wake up tangled in each other’s limbs. Lexa flushes slightly when she realises their position but Clarke only smiles softly.

She sits up and stretches her arms above her head, groaning as her back cracks and pops. Lexa rubs her eyes and grumbles, clearly not happy at being awake.

“How’s your leg?”

“Hurts.”

“I’ll clean it again later,” Clarke says.

“Thanks.”

Clarke is happily surprised when Lexa makes no move to leave; instead they spend the day around the house. In the morning they find books in the upstairs bedrooms, and lounge by the window reading in silence. By midday Clarke is bored, so she grabs her first aid kit and sits down next to Lexa to clean her cut.

“Give me your leg Lexa,” Clarke says.

She does and closes her book at the same time. “You never call me Alexandra.”

“I told you, it’s a mouthful.”

 

Lexa stays. They don’t talk about it, but she doesn’t leave. They were both alone before and they both it’s better to be alone together.

One day Clarke teaches Lexa how to shoot a gun. Another day Lexa shows Clarke how to start a fire. One afternoon they scavenge food from nearby houses and try to cook something edible together. It ends up undercooked and flavourless, but they had laughed and smiled and they almost felt normal.

Clarke thinks about kissing Lexa multiple times a day. When she smiles a certain way, when she tucks her hair behind her ear, when she blushes because Clarke’s said something teasingly.

She never goes through with it though, because Lexa said it herself; her girlfriend only died two months before and she knows that must have been hard. Sometimes she thinks Lexa wants to kiss her too, she gets a look in her eye that Clarke remembers from their lives before, but she never does. And each time Clarke is left slightly disappointed.

   
 

They are on a supply run gone wrong the first time it happens.

One minute they are raiding a supermarket for food, shoving anything least out of date into their bags and the next Lexa is knocking over a rack, it crashes to the floor and suddenly a group of walkers appear.

They stand their ground as long as they can. Lexa swings the bat she found in the garage and Clarke shoots her pistol. But they don’t realise a horde is nearby and the gunshots attract more walkers than they can handle.

They only just manage to slip out a side door unscathed. Their breathing is ragged and sweat drips from their foreheads.

“Up there,” Clarke gasps. She points to a metal ladder leading to the top of the stores roof. She makes Lexa go first, then follows her up. “Faster!” she calls and Lexa speeds up. Clarke manages to get out of reach just as a walker reaches up to grasp her ankle.

Clarke pulls herself up over the edge of the roof and her feet barely touch the ground before she feels a pair of lips on her own. She is already out of breath but the feeling of Lexa’s lips knocks the wind out of her and she gasps.

Lexa pulls back but she doesn’t pull away, keeping her hands firmly on Clarke’s waist, her lips inches from Clarke’s.

“I’m sorry.” She breathes.

“Don’t be.”

“I’ve wanted to do that longer than I care to admit.”

Clarke grins. “I bet I beat you on that front,” she says, and all she can think is, _she has no idea_.

Clarke crashes their lips together again, clinging to Lexa like she’s the only thing keeping her on this earth.

 

They hop on Clarke’s motorcycle one day and head west because they can. Their routine goes like this: they drive for several hours until they find a house and clear it out, then spend a few nights in each. They’re aiming for the ocean, they think.

One night they are lying in a bed together. Lexa is lying on her stomach while Clarke traces shapes on her back. Lexa purses her lips and Clarke chuckles before leaning down to peck her lips.

“You know, sometimes I get the feeling that we’ve met before,” Lexa says, because she’s never felt so comfortable around someone so quickly before.

Clarke cracks a smile that meets her eyes. “Maybe…in another life.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat to me at [thehaughtcommander](http://thehaughtcommander.tumblr.com/).


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